


Stupid

by Anonymous



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Eating Disorders, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Self-Harm, Trans Max (Camp Camp), Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 00:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18981796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Self projection? N e v e r heard of it.*Trigger Warning*Character study??





	Stupid

Max breathed in deep, the cool bathroom floor below him nothing but a sharp reminder of how alone he was.  

His mother had long since slipped away. She had smiled, a tispy smile, told 'Maxine' to be good, and had closed the door to 'her room'. (Not like he'd ever consider this his home.) But either way she was gone. Out of the house. And he was alone. 

For the most part, when he stayed at his fathers house- being alone was something he was accustomed to. His father being out and about, it was a rare chance that Max ever saw him for more than six hours. Yet, even so, being alone at his father's had always made him feel lonely. His father, unlike his mother, was a relatively decent guy. (As long as you stayed on his good side). And sure, his father would yell and curse and cry until midnight would peak, and Max would cry himself, but he could deal with that. He could deal with that, because for all the bad, there was always an equally good. His mother, however, was the opposite. 

For all the good in his mother, he could only count on a single hand. She was horrible, and he hated her. He hated on how she would comment on his weight, scrutinise the way his thighs would touch. Laugh when he'd wear boy clothing, tell 'her' to suck it up. "You'll never be a man, Maxine." The days he'd lock himself in his room and add to the already many growing scars. He  _hated her._

She'd never stop drinking. The bottles would pile up, until they'd spill across the ground, leaking residue. She'd stumble, pick them up with shaking hands, and then fall again. It was a continous cycle. Then, when she'd get angry she had no sorce of intoxication to drown herself in, she'd go after him. Sometimes he came back with bruises, but as many as she'd leave on him, he'd leave well enough back. 

And, even through this. Even through this pain, when the nights began to grow to much. When the darkness in the night began to make him sick, (instead of peaceful), he'd remember. 

He'd remember David. 

 He'd had thought that David had been another stupid Adult. Another idotic, stupid adult, stuck in a fantasy world. Another person who had long and forgotten reality; just like his mother. But then, he'd remember: 

"I try because someone fucking has to." 

And Max, when he'd stare up into his room, with tears in his eyes and his breath in his throat, would smile. He'd smile because..

"Someone fucking has to." 

And honestly? He was never  _really_ alone. Even with his mother, and his father and whomever. Even when school became a challenge just to go to. He was never alone. Because even if David, and Gwen, and Neil and Nikki, seemed so far away- they were there. They were waiting for him, next summer. 

So even through the pain, he'd be the one in a million to fucking care. 


End file.
